


Missing

by ziaminmypants



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-07
Updated: 2012-08-08
Packaged: 2017-11-21 07:24:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/595041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ziaminmypants/pseuds/ziaminmypants
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zayn and Harry are kidnapped.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr: ziaminmypants

It’s been  _two hours, forty three minutes, and six seconds_  since Liam Payne has seen his boyfriend.

Zayn and Harry elected to stay behind at the photo shoot that the band was doing for their new merchandise. Something about how the photographer wanted more shots of them because the camera had done something funny when they were doing individual shots, and Liam has stopped listening because that meant he wasn’t going to be able to spend the rest of the day with the rave-haired boy.

With a gentle squeeze of his hand, Zayn whispers in his ear “I’ll be home shortly to ravish that body of yours.” And with a cheeky wink and a soft pat on the arse, he’s gone and Liam is making his way back to the car he’s sharing a ride back with Louis and Niall.

 _Three hours, thirteen minutes, and fifty eight seconds_  and Liam knows there is something wrong.

Why hasn’t Zayn called or texted that he was still at the shoot? Even if Harry is with him, he would have let Liam know what was going on, where he was going, because he knew how much Liam worried when they weren’t together. But Liam hasn’t heard anything, nothing at all. He keeps checking his phone in vain, even calls his voicemail incase his phone done something weird and didn’t notify him of a missed call or new voice mail. But it’s all in vain, because every time he calls, he only hears the voicemail Zayn left him last night when he was just on the other end of the apartment, telling him how much he was in love with him. Liam hadn’t deleted it because, well, it was perfect.

He’s called Zayn’s phone about three times now, leaving voicemails each time, and has sent countless text messages encouraging him to just let Liam know he’s okay.

Liam falls asleep that night with his phone in his hand and curled up on Zayn’s side of the bed.

_Fourteen hours, thirty one minutes, and fifteen seconds_ _._

Liam’s eyes squint open slightly, then fully when his arms automatically reach out to pull that familiar body closer to him only because he’s cold, and there is no one there. For a moment he thinks that maybe Zayn’s in the kitchen cooking breakfast for them, but when he looks around the room, he knows Zayn hasn’t been here at all.

He calls Louis to see if Harry is back, but he doesn’t get an answer. A string of curse words he wasn’t sure he knew come out as he looks around the apartment, maybe Zayn is just playing a trick on him. With another call to Zayn’s phone, though, he knows something is extremely wrong and it’s time to call the police because Zayn has never gone this long without contacting Liam, even when he was mad at him.

 _Fourteen_ _hours, fifty minutes and two seconds_.

The police have been notified and are currently interviewing Liam, Louis, and Niall about the last place they had seen their band mates. Liam had learned Harry had not returned either; Louis had been searching all over town, too busy to answer his phone when Liam had called.

The first step was for the police to search the location of the photoset and the surrounding areas, while the three band mates waited patiently for news. Liam took this time to call Zayn’s mother, filling her in on what was happening and he promised to contact her the moment they found out any new information. It was an emotional phone call, and Liam wished that Zayn would just walk right through that door, laughing and telling them all Harry and him and been pulling their leg.

The worst part was not knowing. Liam had no clue where his boyfriend was, or where he would have gone with Harry that neither one bothered to tell their boyfriends about. Not knowing if he was okay, or hurt, or hungry, or cold, or about another million and one things that Liam worried about.

But that wasn’t until  _sixteen hours and forty seconds_  that everything came crashing down around him.

Liam’s phone broke the silence of the room. The boys had decided to stay together while the police searched for the other two. Liam looked at the name on the caller id, his heart fluttered and he pressed the button, holding it up to his ear.

“Hey babe, where are you? I’ve been so worried.”

“Hello Liam.”

Liam’s heart sank. It wasn’t Zayn.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tumblr: ziaminmypants

_sixteen hours and forty seconds._

“Don’t say a word.”

There was a pause on the other end, probably to make sure Liam was going to comply.

“Now that I have your attention, Liam, I want you to only answer yes or no. You understand?”

“Yes”

“Good. Now, as you know by now, your precious Zayn and Harry are missing. Police figured out where they are yet?”

“N-No.”

“Good, I hope for your sake and Zayn’s that they don’t,” Liam almost whimpers at this, “Now, in approximately twenty minutes, you are going to receive a message detailing our terms. You must comply in order to ever see Zayn alive again. Do you understand?”

“Y-Yes.” Liam’s head is swimming now and he thinks he’s going to be sick.

“Good, good. Keep your phone close, Liam Payne.”  _Click_.  

Worried looks are shot his way as he looks back with tears in his eyes. “They’ve been kidnapped,” was all Liam could get out.

_sixteen hours, ten minutes, and three seconds._

The police are back, getting information from Liam about the call that had come from Zayn’s cell phone. Liam went through all the details he could think of, the way the person talked, his tone, his accent, the background noises, all details he wish he could remember thoroughly, but couldn’t because all he could think about was  _they’ve got my Zayn_.

Once the police deemed it was enough information, they decided to leave a few officers and the head detective of the case at his apartment to wait for the drop of the ransom message.

_sixteen hours, twenty minutes, thirty seconds._

Someone banged on the door, and Liam jumped. This was it. He stood up, walking to open the door, but before he could get there, Louis was pushing past him and swinging the door open. Liam didn’t register what was happening until Louis had the person in a tight hug and was now slowly pulling them down to the ground, letting the person cry into his chest. Louis looked up at Liam with a pleading face, and Liam moved down, encircling both of them in a tight hug.

“Hazza! Oh my god! Are you okay?” Niall said when he realized who it was.

_eighteen hours, fifty-five minutes, nine seconds._

After Harry calmed down, and Louis got him to talking, which had taken a good hour and half, Liam learned that they had grabbed them from behind when they had walked back into the dressing room after they finished the shoot. Harry confessed that they had only wanted Zayn, but didn’t tell him why.

They had tortured Harry and Zayn, cutting them and beating them. They called them names due to their sexual status, had told them that they were abomination to God and they must be stopped. Liam found it rather crazy, he knew that a lot of people disagreed with his orientation, but never thought someone would physically harm someone that bad because of it. It’s disgraceful, and for Harry and Zayn to be the ones to get the hit, Liam was disgusted and wanted revenge.

Liam couldn’t handle hearing much else about Harry’s time in there, because he knew Zayn was still there and there was nothing he could do about it. He didn’t know what he was going to do, but he couldn’t just sit here while his boyfriend was hurting, bleeding somewhere he couldn’t be at. He wished that it had been him instead of Zayn, anyone but Zayn.

It was then that Harry pulled out a cd that seemed to have been slipped into his pocket with orders. It was the ransom message. Liam popped in into his dvd player, as the police and the rest of the boys gathered around.

The first thing Liam saw was Zayn, _his_  Zayn, his beautiful, broken Zayn who had a cut above his right eye with a black ring to match. His lip was busted and he looked like he had been beaten recently. Liam’s heart sank and he saw Harry shiver out of the corner of his eye. He was looking off camera with his stubborn face; Liam could tell he wasn’t being compliant.

“Say it faggot or we’ll kill your boyfriend too.” Liam cringed at the menace in the voice.

Zayn’s color seemed to drain at that statement, and he then looked up, directly into the camera lens. “Liam, baby…”

Liam’s eye water, he knows Zayn is trying his best to be strong, but Liam’s heart is breaking because he wants, _needs_ , Zayn to be okay.

With his act of defiance once again, the person, who is in a ski mask, walks into the camera’s view and punches Zayn hard in the gut and one in the face for good measure. “I’m not fucking playing, say what is on the card or you and your boyfriend will be dead by morning.”

Zayn’s nose is bleeding now, blood trickling down to his upper lip. Liam lets out a whimper.

“Liam,” Zayn’s looking weakly up at the camera again, “they want you to come with £9603000 to the address that Harry writes down. They want you to come alone.” Zayn pauses at this and Liam knows something wrong. He knows this boy backwards and forwards. And now it looks like he’s looking straight at Liam. “They want you to come alone, no cops, none of the rest of the boys, and they’ll spare me. They’ll let me live.”

Liam is crying now, tears falling down his cheeks silently. Then Zayn’s voice has him looking back up at the camera. “Liam, baby, I love you, don’t go, please. They’re…” and with that the video cuts off. Liam knows that Zayn had probably been beaten after the camera was stopped.

He can barely look at anybody. Liam’s eyes are blurry, but he needs to focus on the problem at hand. Zayn is out there somewhere, hurt and alone, and it’s in his power to stop it. He doesn’t care if there is a catch, that they’ll probably kill them both, he has to try.

“I’ll do it.” Liam says, as he hasn’t noticed that the detectives are talking over what they are going to do, how they can track them, and what the best possible procedure will have the best possible outcome.

They talk about the problems with Liam going alone, and while they think it’s probably the best idea to get the people out in the open in order to arrest them, the address that Harry provided them also isn’t the best place to have undercover cops. It’s a field and the nearest place the officers can be on standby where they suspects won’t get spooked and leave is 32 kilometers. That is too far for their liking, but Liam is telling them it doesn’t matter as long as he gets Zayn back.

_twenty hours, three minutes, twenty-nine seconds._

It’s all been set up. Liam will wear a hidden wire and go there alone, as much to the rest of the boys protest. Liam doesn’t care, as long as Zayn will be alive in the end. Liam had shut himself in their bedroom to mentally prepare himself for what he was about to do with his phone buzzed in his pocket.

He pulled it out, seeing that a text message from ‘Zayn’.

Liam unlocked his phone and read the message.

‘You agree to the terms Payne?’

‘Yes’ was all he could think to put.

‘Good, be there at 5 sharp. See you in a couple of hours. Btw, your boyfriend says hi and that he can’t wait to see you.’

Liam’s heart sinks again.  _Zayn, I’m coming for you._

Liam curls up in Zayn’s side of the bed again, determined to get some rest in before he risks his life in a couple of hours. He silently cries himself to sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tumblr: ziaminmypants

_twenty hours, fifty minutes, thirty seconds._

Liam finds himself counting the spots on the ceiling, unable to shut his mind off so he can sleep properly. He fell asleep, only to be woken by a nightmare twenty minutes later. He had found that his cheeks were soaked with tears and he was clenching Zayn’s pillow. The nightmare had not been good. He cringed, not even wanting to think about it for another second, afraid if he did, it would come true.

So instead of trying to coax himself to sleep, he was set to bore his mind in order to see if that would help to keep his mind from wondering back to those disturbing thoughts. All he wanted was a dreamless sleep.

The last thought before he counts  _four hundred and forty three_  is that he has a bad feeling about the upcoming events.

 _twenty-three hours, thirty-nine minutes, six seconds_.

He’s got a pounding headache, his eyes are blurry, and when he tries to open them they seem to want to sink back closed. Liam’s sleep was anything but soundless, and anything but dreamless. Again, he woke to the bad feeling, but he pushed it aside, hoping it was just the side effect of the bad dream he had just experienced.

Liam hardly slept well whenever Zayn wasn’t sleeping by him, but with him somewhere else, being tortured. Sleep eluded Liam unless it was enough to give him a reoccurring dream of Zayn and how he was being beaten to death right in front of Liam. And there was nothing Liam could do to help him, nothing because he was restrained by something or someone. He never could figure out what was keeping him from running to Zayn, pushing the guys off of him, and protecting him, but just that it was impossible to help his lover who kept screaming and whimpering his name over and over again. Liam felt more exhausted after waking up then before he went to sleep. He needed Zayn with him; he didn’t think he could function properly if he wasn’t.

Another buzz from his phone brought his back to reality.

‘Be ready.’ Who knew that those two words filled Liam with so much dread?

 _twenty-four hours, sixteen minutes_.

A gentle knock on the door broke Liam from his thoughts. He flinched a little when the door opened to reveal Louis.

“Liam, it’s time.”  He didn’t have to elaborate because Liam knew what he meant. Liam scooted off the bed and headed for the door, Louis patting him on the shoulder softly and giving him a silent encouragement.

Liam gets fitted for his wire, which is discreetly places under the collar of his tee shirt and Liam thinks it should be much more than just a little square no bigger than the width of his pinky. In the movies, wasn’t it like cables that connected to a device he had to put in his pocket? But maybe technology has gone farther than the media lets on, and why the hell is he thinking that media has anything right anyways?

He gets his instructions and sets a ‘safe’ phrase to say if things get a little too heated, which ironically is ‘it’s really hot outside.’ Liam thinks it’s ridiculous, but whatever, he knows that it’s probably the least conspicuous thing he can say so they won’t suspect anything. He knows that there will be cops ready and waiting for his signal and they’ll be there ‘in no time’. But he knows the truth.

He knows the risks, he knows the chances. He knows what was written all over Zayn’s face in that video, he _knows_.

 _twenty-four hours, forty-nine minutes, four seconds_.

Liam’s driving to the destination. As instructed, he has come alone, unarmed, and with the £9603000.

He’s there within several minutes, and he feels like a robot, getting out of the SUV with the briefcase. He guesses he’s breathing because he’s still alive, but at the moment, he’s not so sure. His heart is beating faster and he hopes he can control it around the people because it would tip them right off.

He walked to the center of the field where there is a small shack and a few broken down cars. He hoped no one lives here because it’s just pitiful. But then his brain goes to  _zaynzaynzayn_ ; and suddenly that all he can think about.

Liam’s got to save him. He wants to know he’s alive and well and to kiss those lips and hold him in his arms because he’s afraid that he’ll never get that chance again; and that thought chills him to the bone. A life without Zayn, a world without Zayn, would be utter chaos. Liam can’t even think about it, it’s too absurd.

 _twenty-five hours, five minutes, fifty-nine seconds_.

Another SUV pulls up, the windows tinted so he can’t see who is in it, and Liam is taking in air, unable to breath until he has confirmation that Zayn is in fact in that vehicle.

As if to answer his silent prayers, the back car door swings open, someone is getting out, and pulling out another person.  _Zayn_. Liam’s heart flutters, that is until both men are in view.

Zayn is worse than he had been in the video. He has whelps on his arms and face where it look like he had been beaten with something sharp, bruises and blood cover most of his body. His clothes are torn revealing nasty cuts, and the gash on his forehead looks pretty nasty.

Liam wants to run to him, hug him to his chest and tell him that he’s okay, that Liam will take care of him. But he’s afraid to take any steps because, well, he doesn’t want to ruin any chance he has of them both getting out of this alive.

But Zayn looks like death, and it’s a miracle that he can even walk, but when those almond eyes fall on Liam, he’s all but still, squirming in the guy’s hands. “LIAM, NOOOO, YOU WEREN’T SUPPOSE TO COME!!! GET-“ but his frantic words are cut off when the guy who is holding him knees him in the stomach, sending the boy to his knees, effectively shutting him up for the time being.

Liam takes a step towards Zayn, but the person moves towards him. “Oh no Payne, you aren’t to make any moves. Now, I suppose that is our money?”

He can’t place the accent, not with his mind going a hundred miles a minute and his eyes not being able to move some Zayn’s crumbled form.  He’s got to do something; Liam can’t just stand here and watch Zayn hurting. He cannot just  _not_  act, but all Liam finds himself doing is nodding at the guy, his eyes still glued to Zayn.

“I can’t hear you Liam. Come on, let’s talk, might as well. I mean what do you faggots do when you’re not fucking each other in the arse? Talk about your feelings right? Come on, Payne.” Liam knows what the guys doing now; he’s trying to rile him up.

Liam can’t help but to think he sounds a bit ignorant with his statements about homosexuality, but he also knows a lot of people don’t think twice before hating something they don’t understand. They persecute someone simply because they don’t understand their beliefs or ways; it’s quite sad, but that’s what kind of world they live in now.

“No thanks,” he grits out. “May we get this over with so Zayn and I can go back home please, he needs a doctor.”

And the guy is laughing at him. “You think it’s going to be that easy? You think that you are going to get away with the fucking filth you parade around in front of everyone’s faces in your fucking interviews and concerts and pictures? You both will be punished.” Liam doesn’t miss the ‘ _will be’_  part.

That’s it, Liam can’t wait anymore, he be damned if he lets Zayn feel another hit from that  _motherfucker_. “Can we go somewhere Zayn can be under some shade, it’s really hot outside and he’s already weak, please…” Liam begs.

“I’m about tired of your requests faggot.”

“Liam, please, go, just go.” And Zayn’s words interrupt what Liam’s about to say and that when the guy kicks Zayn in the ribs and then right in the side of the head and that’s it, Liam doesn’t think anymore, he’s reacting.

He throws the suitcase at the guy, hard, making sure it lands away from him enough for Liam to get Zayn away from him and into the shack before he can kill them both. Without thinking, Liam sees the guy out the corner of his eye, as he runs to Zayn and sees nothing but blood. The guys must have kicked him hard with his boot.

“Come on, Z..” the boy is barely conscious as Liam throws Zayn’s arm over his shoulder and carries, or more like drags, Zayn to the direction of the shack. He knows that it’s going to take the cops some time to get there, but he has no choice now, he’s got to make it to the shack with Zayn and live through the next fifteen minutes.

Half way there, Liam knows Zayn is slipping in and out of consciousness as the older boy is whimpering and sometimes whispers Liam’s name. He pulls him up, trying to get a better grip on him when he hears the shot. Liam hoists up Zayn in his arms, his feet dandling on one end, his head resting against Liam’s shoulder on the other end. He’s running now, fast, praying Zayn isn’t hit.

They finally make it to the shack, Liam swinging the door open and propping Zayn up against an old refrigerator and closes the door and locks it. There is blood all over him,  _Zayn’s_. He knows that the shack isn’t going to be enough to keep them out for long, especially when they have got guns. Liam is beating himself up for not expecting that, or that there might be more than one of them, because of course, there had to have been a driver. But it’s too late now.

Liam is trying to find anything he can to shove up against the door to keep the people from coming in on them. A duplicated bookshelf and broken chairs, even a table or two makes a great barrier between them and the door. There is only window in the shack, but its nailed shut, thank God, and Liam can finally breathe, and it’s hurting. He drops to his knees because he feels like his legs are going to give out on him and now he’s frantically searching Zayn to see if there is a gunshot wound, thankfully he can’t find any.

He then hears banging on the door. “Come out, come out faggots!” He hears another shoot or two and realizes that they are trying to shoot the door down. He can’t help but to think that maybe these guys a little off their rockers, more so than he originally thought.

Liam doesn’t say a word; instead he focuses on Zayn and keeping him awake. “Hey, hey, hey, Zayn baby, open those pretty eyes and look at me.” He says softly, patting Zayn’s badly bleeding cheek.

Zayn winces, but opens his eyes slowly, looking into Liam’s, now acknowledging that Liam was actually there. Liam’s stomach is aching; it’s hurting, he thinks he’s going to be sick. Zayn looks bad, but he’s alive. He’s here with Liam, and that’s all that matters. He’s just so glad Zayn is alive and looking back at him with those beautiful eyes. Liam feels weak, probably the adrenaline wearing off when Zayn’s eyes widen.

His finger goes up to Liam shirt. “Liam… you’ve been shot!” Zayn says weakly, and then Liam is looking down at his shirt, soaked in blood, the blood he thought was all Zayn’s. He winces, now realizing it had been him that had been shot, and now he can feel everything. The pain in his chest, all the blood coating his clothes, his legs giving out on him, the pains shooting up his body, he feels everything now. He’s lost a lot of blood now, and he’s looking at Zayn, his eyes growing heavily. All he wants to do now close them so badly, fatigue catching up to him.

“Zay-“ and everything goes black.


End file.
